Second Chance
by Des Iries
Summary: Hello! Leroux-Kay book world. Death is sent as an unwilling guardian angel to Erik. unlimited power that is limited. Death must make Erik listen to save his soul because someone else wants it as well and will stop at nothing to try to get it.
1. Chapter 1

**Greetings and hello again. Please don't ask were I've been. Lets just say I'm back. And I've got a new story. Hopefully this one is more promising. Ok here we go. This is a ****Leroux-Kay book world. Not enough of them in my opinion. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own any the Phantom of the Opera**

**A thanks goes out to ****Experimental Madness**** for being my beta on this story and making it much better.**

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Prologue

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She wasn't a killer. However she was associated even called, Death herself. In fact she had many names, Death, Grim Reaper, Grim, the Spectre of Death, Angeu, Giltinė, Yamaraj, The Fourth Horseman of the Apocalypse, He Who Rides the Pale Horse. Well, she did not ride a horse. Never had in fact. Wasn't even a male. The closest anyone had ever gotten to her given name was 'Angel of Death'.

Angela.

The name given to her at her birth.

Yes birth. But that seemed so long ago. But she was old. Older then most cities. She no longer even remembered when she was born. She did the job that was given to her. Neither world wanted her. She was too dark for Heaven, too good for Hell. She was stuck in Purgatory like many of the souls that awaited their judgment. She moved between her own Hell and the human world. She watched, but didn't interfere, though there had been special cases in which she gave humans a second chance at saving themselves.

She didn't go to every human. She waited at midnight, every night to gather the souls that had passed. They waited in a limbo until she gathered them. Her job was never done. For centuries it was the same thing until the year 1881.

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Chapter 1

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The whisperings sounded all around but the dark figure didn't pay them any mind. On she walked, knowing she was truly out of place. She had a job to do and was slightly annoyed that she was summoned to where she was not welcomed. Finally she came before the Council that sent for her. She was before at least a dozen beautiful angels.

They all had proud, soft, elegant looks upon their delicate faces that looked as though God had carved them from porcelain. The one nearest her, seated at the center of the table, was a woman, with light golden hair that shone with a light all its own.

She waited impatiently as they took their time. At last a sexless voice  
rang out without the angel even moving her lips. "Angela, you look surprised to be here," the heavenly voice spoke, "Why?"

"I do have a job to do. I just wonder at what you want." Angela said.

"Why, Angela, do you not know? This is the Great Bridge, where souls come before they are sent either to the glorious Heaven, or the deep abyss of Hell," the voice answered.

"I know that. That is your job. All I do is tally all the lives that die. And humans die all the time. I just send them on to you. Whom ever goes to Hell, well, my father deals with them." She retorted angrily pushing the hood back, her complete black eyes staring out.

"There is one that fancies himself as your apprentice of death.

"I have no apprentice." Angela protested. She was appalled. She had no partner, no apprentice, only minions.

"We know. And the fact that we granted him genius and the gift of music, he has misused it in many ways. Judgment on whether or not to grant his soul salvation from his sins should be given shortly. The Council is still deciding."

"What has this has to do with me? Like I said all those Hell destined go to my father. I only gather the souls." Angela said rather annoyed.

"We want you to go to him. Give him one last chance."

Angela sighed. This day was just getting better and better. "I have other things to do. Playing the part of the seducer is, again, my father's job. I only gather souls. He is not dead is he? Then I don't step in until he is."

"As you know some humans are rather powerful. He is one. He has achieved great things and still can but one thing is holding him back. The love of a young girl. She is not destined to be with him. We have great plans for him. She is only a distraction, one that he cannot afford. We want you to go to him, turn him away from her and save him from himself and your father. He already has a claim out on his soul. We do not want this."

Angela thought on it. " Well…I won't say that it hasn't been done. As I remember the Council has saved or let me save very few people in such a way throughout all of eternity..."

"Correct. But he is special."

"Very well. I'll try."

"Excellent. He is located in Paris, France and goes by the name of Erik…"


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own any the Phantom of the Opera**

**A thanks goes out to Experimental Madness for being my beta on this story and making it much better.**

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To Angela, Paris was a carnival of souls, crowds of gaily-dressed folk flocked to the latest rage. Candlelights were strung up around late night café's, prostitutes and whores clung to the shadows, wrapped in tight dresses and whistling at men who shambled past with darkened eyes. She knew each and every one. Not their names, but every time one got near to her, she knew their life and knew when, where, and how they would die. Angela paused as a cloud passed over the sun. She was moving with the crowd' try playing off of her discomfort at being one with the crowd.

As she approached the Opera Populaire, Angela couldn't believe how grand and beautiful the building was. The April sun illumined the columns, arches, busts, friezes, and reliefs. It shone on marble, bronze, stone, and wood. Along the top of the building were rows of masks. She paused to read the words, Academie Nationale De Musique.

She then moved on through the large doors. Again she paused to look around. She was in awe of the amount of painted art and sculpture that decorated the main hallway. Half-naked muses, gods and goddesses stood everywhere; they lined the walls, the staircase, even the ceiling, almost as though the Opera House was the true home of the divine beings. She moved toward the bottom of the grand marble stairway just as an attendant came up to her, asking her all sorts of questions.

"Please monsieur, I happen to be in desperate need of a new job. Is there any owners or managers in that I can speak to?" Angela asked the man.

He nodded curtly. "If you'd like I can get you in to see the managers, but I can promise nothing beyond that."

"I would greatly appreciate that," she said, flashing her sweetest smile. The moment the man walked off the smile faded. Again she looked around and closed her eyes. The Council had put a limit on her powers while she was on Earth, but she could still have some of them. She just wasn't allowed to appear to this Erik in her true form yet. She took a deep breath and called out. Her call allowed her to see through out the span of several miles. In her third eye she looked for the man she had to locate. Her 'eye' had made it as far as the back stage when she was interrupted. The attendant had come back.

"Mademoiselle? The managers can see you now." The attendant took her to a large office room with two men sitting in it. He showed her in and left.

They looked her up and down with undisguised interest. She knew she looked rather odd. Her true look would be too shocking for humans. "I hear you're looking for a place in our opera. What makes you think you're worthy of our attention? What are you looking for? What can you do?" one of them asked, his eyes not quite on her face.

"I-" she paused. She had no idea on how to get into the company. There were many jobs, but she didn't know of any others but as a singer. "I-I'm a singer."

"Indeed. I should like to hear that!" exclaimed the second man.

She nodded once and hit them with the full power of her 'voice'. Borrowing the true angles voices, she cheated her way in. She didn't dare use her own. They would never give her the 'job' she so needed. When she stopped they looked at each other.

"Not a chorus girl."

"Certainly not. But we can't have her as a Prima Donna. Start her on small roles; give the audiences a taste of her first. We can't just unleash her on the world with no warning."

Angela smirked inside. She waited patiently while they decided how to best get their measly human money's worth out of her. "Of course, Mademoiselle..."

"Angela," she supplied.

"Mademoiselle Angela. We'll work you into the cast first thing tomorrow."

She smiled and left the room. Trying to find her way through the maze of halls she passed back through a hall of dressing rooms. She looked around lost as to where she was. Suddenly a girl appeared at her side. She was rather small and timid looking. Her light blond hair was pulled up simply and she wore a dark green dress.

"Are you lost miss?" she had a rather beautiful voice but it was light, barely above a whisper.

"Yes, I am, see I was just hired and have one idea were to go." Angela smiled.

"You were? What for?"

"Singing. The managers are going to start me out on small parts. But right now I have no place to stay and don't even now were I am." Angela said slowly and carefully.

"Oh, really. Well then I'm sure you can have one of the old empty dressing rooms." The girl said rather cheerfully.

"Great." Angela followed her through the hallway and at the end of it were two lonely doors. One was at the far end and was mostly in shadow. The other was under the last gas lamp. This one, the girl opened. She followed her inside. It was rather dusty and cold but it wasn't like she was going to sleep in there.

"I'm afraid it's rather cold and dirty, but it is the only one that is empty. Mine is one door down. Like this one it is rather cold and dark but I'm so use to it that I cannot seem to stay in another. By the way, my name is Christine Daae."

She had assumed as much. "I am Angela…DeBlunc and this is fine. Now if you excuse me…I am rather tired." Angela said gently.

Christine nodded. "I will see you at rehearsal tomorrow then?" she asked sweetly.

"Yes…"

"Hope to meet you again." Christine smiled then backed out, closing the door.

Angela looked around at the dusty room. She knew that to keep her appearance as a human up she had to clean it and to appear to sleep though she didn't need to sleep.

Waving her hand over the furniture and the tables the dust and cobwebs disappeared.

She snorted. The idea of beauty that humans had. To fit in she had to have what was fashionable in women. Tiny waist and pale skin and a doll face. After that was done she walked up to the mirror and peered at the human form she had taken. She had kept her same height but her hair had darkened to a lighter blonde then Christine's. Her black feline shaped eyes had lightened to a pale blue and her normally white skin now had a shade of pink. But she could not hide the black marks that swirled in an ancient pattern from the left side of her neck down her left arm to her wrist.

The room already cleaned she had no choice but to leave. It was late in the evening and though she was on a mission she still had a job to do. Closing her eyes she barely felt the lurch to Purgatory.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own any the Phantom of the Opera**

**A thanks goes out to Experimental Madness for being my beta on this story and making it much better.**

XXX

The shrieks of the souls still awaiting their clearance into ether Heaven or Hell echoed all around. She didn't pay them any mind as she looked around the gray and black wasteland. This was her home and though she didn't like it she had no choice but to deal with the cards she was dealt. She was a half-breed. Half demon and half angel. Her father had seduced an angel. Her mother was on Earth somewhere as punishment. She still had a hundred years to go before she was admitted back into Heaven. Angela was the child of the sinful union. Her mother was ashamed of her and her father didn't want anything to do with her. As the result she was named Angela meaning messenger. Her other title was Death.

And now as Death she swept across the night skies in the eastern then the western and then headed north then south. She gathered the dying souls into a large black orb. Time slowed to a stop as she flew back into the plains of Purgatory. She then threw the glass ball into the air. It became suspended and light admitted from it as thousands of souls poured out and into the streams of souls that floated on the wind. Her job done for the day she stepped of the plain and back in the human world. It was already midday and she hurried to the practice room, which was full when she got to it. Even the managers were there to introduce Angela to the rest of the performers. She got a very poorly concealed look of hate from one of singers, a woman named Carlotta.

Hardly paying attention she sat after having received a copy of the score. Smirking, Angela noticed that her part was of a fairly significant size. Her part was in the middle part of the opera, one of the only four actors to appear in the scene. And it was a rather good part as well. No wonder Carlotta was sending glares at her. A new singer with a sizeable part to appear beside her will draw some attention away from Carlotta.

Rehearsal ran smoothly with only the occasional death look from Carlotta. The real high point of the day was when Angela got to Christine sing. She had a flawless technique, she could find no fault with it, but she lacked any sort of emotion. The child had talent but no soul. The girl just stood there with her mouth open and sang, but she didn't make it real.

When finally, rehearsal came to an end Angela hurried off to be by herself. She was nominally a being that was alone. Being around humans, alive ones was nerve racking for her. She looked around and closed her eyes. She had been in the human world for more then twenty-four hours and had no idea where this Erik was. She closed the door to her new room and locked it. She then sat in the middle of the floor after she had turned the gas lamps down low. She sat there and closed her eyes. Slowing her breathing she opened her mind. It sent a vibrating pulse out one, then twice. The second one bounced off of people and sent back bits of their mind. She turned away from one couple copulating in a dark corner and sent her mind out again. It sent back no images or thought patterns of anyone named Erik.

_Christine. _

An image of Christine sitting at her desk, writing feverishly in a dairy.

_Erik._

The thought came back to Angela hard. She then focused back on Christine and probed her mind a bit.

_Ugly, disfigured._

_Mask, yellow eyes._

_Tall, too thin._

_Smells like death._

_Under the Opera House…_

There! She had been thinking he was in the actual Opera House up were the other people lived. Of course. The cellars were huge and if he were indeed disfigured he would hide.

She left Christine's mind and aimed her pulses down. It came back several times, but she pushed deeper. Finally it located one human light in the darkness. Her pulse moved faster and hit him. She 'saw' him stagger and Angela frowned. No human had ever noticed her pulses before. She only got to see a brief memory and it wasn't a good one. Emotions came back at her. Hate and anger at the invasion. In the pulses she saw him turn and his face came into view. For some reason he wasn't wearing his mask and she got the full force of his face. His uneven eyes narrowed and suddenly a block was thrown up and she could see him no more.

Angela pushed back but she was thrown back hard. Her body jerked and she opened her eyes with a gasp. How did he know she was there? The Counsel didn't tell her everything.

She frowned again. They loved to move in riddles. She slowly stood thinking how she was going to approach him. It had to be on his grounds. She had only a short time before her father came to take his soul. She knew that it was soon in that. No more then a few months.

Angela knew without a timepiece what time it was. It was late at least eleven at night. She didn't want to wait. She had all the time in the world, but he didn't. Living one her human disguise she walked through the wall and floated down several floor levels before she came to rest on the same spot Erik had been only moments before. Angela looked around not seeing anything. The total blackness surrounded her. It was unnerving. She was use to seeing everything. Her eyes turned back into her normal ones. Pure black orbs in her sockets. Everything became clearer. She saw that she was in a long tunnel. To any human it would send them in a lost panic. She however was not. It was dry but cold. In fact it was freezing. Little puffs of white vapor hung in the air. She looked again left and then right. She decided on left, as it seemed to head downward more. Angela walked slowly running her gloved hand over the old gray stones.

She moved only a few more steps when she heard a slight grinding sound. The sound of stone on stone. She walked on pretending she had not heard it, but was alert. She looked down and saw a slight glow of a lamp. It then went out. A hand slapped hard down on her shoulder and in her human body she could feel the coldness seeping out from it. It turned her roughly around. She only had a second to change her inhuman eyes back to the human blue ones. It went dark but she could sense the man in front of her.

"Why are you here?" He hissed. His voice was a deep and cultured one, enunciating every syllable with crystal clarity. It was also almost unearthly in it of itself.

"Looking for you." Angela said simply. She didn't want to play games. She allowed him to make the first move. If he tried to kill her she would have to force him to listen then make his choice but she wanted it to happen of his own free will. Sweet and simple.

Make the choice then she could leave and erase the memories of those in the Opera House of her.

"Why would you be looking for me? Not even a full day here and already you're nosier then the Ballet Rats!" he sneered. She heard him back up.

Angela felt hashed and it was not a feeling she enjoyed. She was older then him, older then his mother, his father and older then the Seine River. "Erik…"

He halted, "How do you know that name?"

"You're being terribly dense tonight, Erik. I know more then that." Suddenly the entire tunnel, burst into blooming light as if by magic. He had brought the small lamp out from under his cloak that covered his entire form. A black fedora was pulled low over his head, but the light was enough for her to see that his face was completely covered by an expressionless and hollow white mask.

The eyeholes were black and empty, and he seemed gaunter and more corpselike than ever as he looked down at her. The thing that she noticed was that his eyes were not the sickly yellow Christine had wrote down, but a lustrous gold. A gold that seemed to slow in the dim light.

Angela watched him watch her. He seemed not surprised, but interested that she hadn't screamed or fainted at the sight of him. She was just as curious. And that slowed her thinking as she regarded him. There had been few in the presence of that held the aurora that he was admitting. It was strong, but shaky. It was nether saintly, or even good. But it sure wasn't evil. She reached up and did something she had never done to a human. Dead or alive.

She touched his face.

He stiffened like a board, like a tree.

She moved her fingers over it, gently. Smooth whiteness...it almost felt like porcelain, but it was too thin and flexible for that. She could feel his bones beneath it.

He tentatively grabbed her hand. Leather glove. She felt it, felt the bones in his hand and the wrist and the forearm

"How dare you," he growled.

The harsh words breathed out in raspyness that woke her. "No. How dare you. I will not stand for being insulted that way. Take your hands off me now. If not you will pay for it."

"This is my theatre, and the managers listen to me unquestioningly. I could have you thrown out of here any time, so I'd be careful if I were you."

"I doubt even you could make them get rid of me after the performance I just gave." Allowing him to believe she was human for now. She looked up at him to see what he would do.

"You insolent child!" his grip on her would have been quite painful but she didn't feel pain. "You ignorant little fool!"

"That's enough! Now you listen to me. I'm here to-" Angela was cut off when there was a slight ringing of a bell. It was faint but it still could be heard.

There was a deathly silence, as Erik froze then looked back at her, his hand tightening to a point of breaking. Suddenly the light went out and they were plunged in darkness. She then felt herself being dragged along. She opened her eyes back to her normal ones. He was dragging her through then tunnel at a fast pace. He didn't look back at her once.

Suddenly he stopped and pushed her against a wall that turned and Angela found herself in a hallway. She blinked and the human eyes came back. She looked up and down the hallway then turned back to the wall. She pressed on it but it wouldn't budge. A voice hissed near to her ear.

"If I find you in the cellars again I will leave you there. Do not go down there again."

Then the voice was gone.

Angela stood there unable to move or speak. A human had gotten the best of her. She gritted her teeth and clinched her teeth. The few gas lamps flickered as a cold wind stared to blow through the hallway. Ice formed around the doors and edges of the rugs. She let out a breath and saw a heavy cloud of white mist. She clinched her hands and willed herself to calm down. The wind stopped and it began to warm up. She walked back to her room. It was too late to try to go after him again so she had to wait another day.

Xxx

Angela stood in the middle of the room in a half comatose state. A sharp knock on the door brought her back. She blinked, "What is it?"

"Mademoiselle. It's me Christine. I just want to remind you that rehearsal starts very soon." The sweet soft voice of the girl rang out.

"Very good. Thank you." Angela looked down at her dress. It was the same one she had worn yesterday. It would not do if she showed up in the same one. Waving her hand over the dress it changed to a deep chocolate brown with light pink strips down it. She then headed down to rehearsal.

Rehearsal went rather dully and was over only after what had seemed like hours. Angela suddenly found herself alone in the room after everyone had left. She leaned back in her seat, almost lounging. She flipped through the script not truly believing at what she was seeing. It was the story of 'Faust'. The irony of it. They would die if they knew that story was true.

She closed the book and looked around it was a large room but rather dull. She couldn't believe it. She had been in the human world as a human for two days and she was bored. Humans were awfully dull. Though Erik sure had woken her up.

Erik.

Back to the mission at hand. She closed her eyes and threw out her pulse. It bounced around the upper part of the Opera House but found no sight of him so she aimed her pluses down.

She jerked when they bounced back to her. He was right under this room and was moving at a fast pace. She stood up and followed him. She sent another pulse 'watching'

him and this time he stopped and looked around.

She sent another before she could stop herself and he blocked her out. She let out a curse and threw another one. This time he slammed a mental shield up and at the same time moved away. Angela slammed a hard pulse down, not caring if it knocked him off of his feet. It didn't, in fact he had disappeared. He had moved just as she he had blocked her out.

"What are you?" she whispered.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own any the Phantom of the Opera**

**A thanks goes out to Experimental Madness for being my beta on this story and making it much better.**

**XXXX**

The following weeks proved to be trying. Angela was in a rage. Somehow, someway, Erik had found a way to block her out.

Erik himself was also in a rage. He would be more ruthless in his haunting and his demands on his managers. It was long before she found out why.

Christine was being courted.

Courted by a young Vicomte de Chagny. He was a rather handsome boy. Shoulder length brown hair that was clean and swiped back into a ponytail. He had high cheekbones and nice pale skin. His gray blue eyes were wide and eager for the sights and sounds of the world. Young and immature, but an intelligent stubborn. He followed Christine around like a lost puppy, turning his adoring eyes to her.

Strangely this did not move Christine. The first time that they had met was after her grand performance. She seemed excited and pleased to see him, but the next night when he came to call, she was cold and turned him away.

Angela knew the reason behind this. Erik. He must have forbid her to see the young boy in a jealous rage. Angela shook her head as she walked down the streets of Paris. It was the first time she had been out of that building. It was driving her crazy. That morning Christine didn't show up to rehearsal. No one was worried too much; it wasn't the first time she had pulled a disappearing act.

Angela had always thought herself as a patient being. But now that she had a deadline and the time was drawing nearer. She was ready to drop in on Erik and show her true form and tell him why she was sent. But that would be the worst thing she probably could do. She had to get him alone and talk to him. And the best way to do that was upset the balance.

XXX

A little stomachache can do wonders.

Christine was too ill to perform in the opera that night. So was her understudy as well as Carlotta and her understudy. It was then the managers had no choice, but to turn Angela loose on the audience. She shocked them into silence and received a thunderous standing ovation. She didn't hold back. She hit them with the full power of her 'voice', showing off the dexterity of her range, which was drastically more flexible than humans. She sung out with crescendos and decrescendos, with embellishments and perfect pitch, with a sense of rhythm and style that was uncanny. she tore into their souls with the angel's voices. Voices that should have never been heard by mortals.

She didn't really care. Her voice was 'borrowed'. Not real. She had no remorse about cheating. She had a job to do and he was slippery as an eel in slinking away from her pluses. She had to do everything the hard way and she would much rather get back to her own 'life'.

Finally she slipped away and headed back to her dressing room. She had left a note before the performance and she knew Erik would read it. It was addressed to him and after that one run in with him and her knowing his name would drive him in frenzy. He was curious as a cat, but also was cautious and wary.

Her door swung open with a creak to reveal him waiting for her, his eyes dark.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

He held the note up. "You left this for me I believe? What do you want?"

"I want to talk." Angela said simply. She closed the door. She opened her mouth to begin but Erik cut in on her.

"I do not care what you have to say. I don't know how Miss Daae came to be ill. I could care less about Carlotta, but in the future you are not to take any major stage performances." He waved her off.

"Now you just wait. I hardly think that is fair. I sung as well as any 'Prima Donna'. As a musician you would understand that." Angela glared at him.

"You know nothing about real music. There is not a soul in the world that can compare to what I know, and still you say you are the best." he was working himself into a real rage.

"I never said I was the best. But I'll say it now. I am the best and don't you what to know why? Why my talents seem to even out shine your little girl's? The reason is Erik-" she was again interrupted by voices in the hall. It was the managers and they were only feet away from the door.

Erik froze, his ice-cold eyes glaring down at her. "I want you to forget me. Forget my name however you know it, and never, I repeat never try to take my Christine's place again!" then he was gone. It happened in a blink but Angela was able to see the panel in the far wall close.

As soon as she was alone in the room she started to laugh but then stopped. It was the second time she was interrupted from truly talking to him. If she didn't know any better her father could be behind it.

The managers knocked on the door. Angela thought about ignoring them, but decided against it and opened the door. The two mangers stood there with a rather large stack of papers. In the end she declined the offer. The offer that was to become a diva after of course Christine. They had decided to remove Carlotta. They were going to allow her one last performance then cancel her contract. Angela shook her head and told hem that she was only going to stay a little longer. She had another engagement and she would leave soon.

They had grumbled but she finally agreed to one last performance.

XXX

She gnashed her teeth and found that she could not longer stand the sight of the human world. In a flash she was back to her own realm. The shrieks and moans of the souls in the 'mini-hell was for once relaxing for her. She walked around the wasteland. She shed her human disguise and stood in her full glory. She starched her body out and breathed in the dusty gray air. She would never admit to it but it felt good to be out of that Opera House. Everyone walked about in a dream state, Erik included.

Erik.

She frowned and thought about him. He had been extremely shy when he had talked to

her. Well, he sure wasn't shy about making his displeasure known.

She was thinking upon this as she was out gathering the souls of the day when in the western hemisphere it hit her. It was a pain like no other. It struck like a bolt of lighting. It exploded in her chest and traveled down her arm with a paralyzing intensity. She moaned and slipped back into the purgatory.

She groaned and sank down to her knees. She had never felt pain before and didn't know what was happening. The screams and moans of the souls dimmed out until, she could only hear her own ragged breathing and a heart pounding in her ears. Not her heart. She had no heartbeat. No heart actually. She had a dim idea as to whose it was. She waved a hand and a figure entered in her view. It was Erik. He was down on his knees and was clutching at his chest. A heart attack. More times then not fatal. Countless times she had gathered souls that had died of that human ailment. But why was she feeling it?

She pushed herself up and started to go to him, not as the human he had seen but as Death. To gather his soul and try to talk to him as he lay dying. But as suddenly as it had started it was over and another form came into view. The child Christine. She had his mask in her hand and handed it back to him. He would live. The view closed.

"That girl has a stronger hold on him then you thought." The deep smooth male voice rang out.

Angela growled and whipped around. "Brother."

The dark figure bowed. "Sister," he said mockingly.

"What are you doing here?" Angela snarled. Her hate for her brother was well known.

"A little family reunion. I came with father's and mine warning. Forget the task that the Council had sent you to do. The human is ours-mine. _I'm _the one with the claim on him."

He sneered and came into full view. His skin was as dark as her was white. Long black hair fell to his waist and red eyes glowed with a delightful evil. Two sets of black leather bat like wings were folded behind him. He reached out a clawed hand and touched her face.

Angela forced herself to stand still, but her skin still crawled away from his touch. "How is Father?"

"Ah. You know him. Reveling in his glory, taking credit for my doings."

"Yours?"

A laugh. "You have taken this task of Grim Reaper too seriously. When do you ever

visit? For the past thousand years it is I who have taken over Father's job. I am everything he was but not in name. He still gets the credit. But not this time."

"You are not thinking of appearing to him?!"

"You are.""But the council told me to-"

"My dear sister so naive if they wanted to save him they would admit him anyway. But no. They want you to mettle in his life, make it harder. That is why I'm here. I want you to stop. If you go to him and try to change him father then I have to step in, but if you leave him alone he will come straight to me."

"There is something more you are not telling me."

His red eye flashed, "I warn you sister, stay out of it, or I will make it hard for you!" he bared him long fangs at her and disappeared.

"No. You will not have him Mammon, he is mine." Angela whispered to the wasteland.

XXXXx

She had tried finding him, it didn't work. Had tried taking Christine's place and leaving him a note, that didn't work ether.

So she figured attacking the 'love' of his life would sure get his attention. She waited until after rehearsal was over. They had moved her to the back of the chorus line as punishment for saying no at the contract signing. Christine ran through her part last after almost every one was gone. Angela waited in the hall for her. She knew that Christine would head that way. Finally, she got up to leave and passed by Angela.

Angela was leaning against the wall and reached out and grabbed Christine.

Christine let out a sharp gasp, and then sighed when she saw it was Angela.

"Hello, Angela. It was nice meeting you but I am supposed to meet with my teacher now and I don't want to make him angry by being late." Her eyes went a little wide at the thought.

Angela forced a laugh at her.

"You find something amusing?" She sounded insulted.

"Just the fact that you're so timid as to be afraid of your own vocal instructor."

"If you had met him you wouldn't laugh."

She smiled indulgently, like she would at a small child. "Everyone knows that the Opera Ghost teaches you, and there are more gruesome descriptions of his face floating around this place than I could possibly believe in."

"Don't believe any of them," she whispered.

Angela shot an eyebrow up.

"It's much worse."

"Tell me, what does he look like? Tell me just what it takes to frighten the poor little hum-child?"

"Don't laugh, he looks like a man been dead a month." Christine said then gasped and started to shake.

"You haven't seen a man dead for a month. I can tell you…they look much worse."

She put a hand to her cheek and looked away. "He would be very angry with me if he knew I was speaking about him like this."

Angela smiled at her. "Are you sure he doesn't?" she said softly, smoothly. The look of terror that collided with her face was amusing.

It took her all of half a second to flee the room in tears, presumably to her dressing room to meet with her teacher of the violent temper.

Angela sighed. She didn't care about tormenting humans. They had enough torment, but if she troubled Christine she would run to Erik and then he would run to her demanding what she had done. She wasn't disappointed. It was later that night that Erik met up with her.

"What could she have possibly done to deserve your wrath?" he voice came behind her.

Angela didn't turn, but shrugged. "Who? Oh, Christine? Plenty." She turned and faced him.

He stepped toward her but she didn't back up or flinch away.

"This time I will talk to you. Erik, I want you to reconsider your devotion to this girl. You are meant for better things and this girl is standing in your way. I am here to give you a choice. Soon this will all end and you with have to make a decision. And that decision will affect you for all time. What do you want?"

"All I want is to be left alone to live my life with Christine." He stubbornly insisted.

Angela growled, "Provided you can pry her away from her handsome, young viscount. Oh yes, I know all about him. In fact, I believe I saw him meeting her last night when she left you. Quite a good-looking young man, if I do say so. I can understand why she's taken with him." she watched as his eyes flashed with rage and he lifted a hand. "Go ahead, Erik, hit me. See for yourself. Strike me down for the truth." Not moving she waited for the blow, even raising her face to meet it, but it didn't come.

"It's not the truth, she loves me," he growled. " I will make her love me." With that he left.

Weary, she sank into a chair and didn't bother to look up when she spoke again. "Damnit Mammon, I told you to leave him alone. He was starting to listen to me."

A cold laugh. "And I didn't even have to 'play human' for him to listen to me. I told you little sister, I want him. I could've let him hit you, you know." Mammon laughed again and the voice disappeared.


	5. Chapter 5

****

Disclaimer: I don't own any the Phantom of the Opera

A thanks goes out to Experimental Madness for being my beta on this story and making it much better.

XXX

Angela went through days of rehearsals with an outward appearance of normality even while fuming inside. What could she do? The time was drawing near and for all of her tricks she had not one idea on how to approach him again. She was getting tired of 'playing human'. But the more she tried to find Erik the harder it became. Finally she could take it no longer and left the earth plane and stepped onto one she rarely visited and were it all had started when the Council had given her the task.

They looked very surprised to see her.

She glared up at them. "Tell me. Did you know of the out come or are you leaving it all on my shoulders?"

"In a way yes. You are only there to help sway him, talk to him when you can. The limit of your powers is to keep you from forcing him. It is important for him to decide for himself. He is human and quite capable of making his own decisions. You are only there to try to sway him back to the Lord." The golden voice told her.

"Why is he so important? He is only a human. A strange one, but still only a human. One soul! One! And why can't I use all my powers? I could go to him show him who I am and tell him the ultimatum!" Angela gritted out.

"He is important. It will become clear to you in the end. Erik is important for many reasons and for people that are yet to be born. You must let his story play out to the end, then be there for him in the end, as will be your father. That will be the battle. His story is important. If you stop him too soon, then his story will not finish."

"My father? No. My father doesn't give a damn about him. It's Mammon that is wanting him."

There was a chorus of whispering. The mist swirled and the figures of the Council appeared. "Mammon? Your demon brother?"

"Ah You didn't know? Nether did I until he told me. For the past thousand years it was he who had taken over Father's job. You sit up here and play all Glory this and Hallelujah that! Now let me use all of my powers! I am not one of your angels! In fact I'm not even an angel. Let me do my job. If you want him saved, let me do it my way or you do it yourself!"

"We are sorry Angela, but it has to be this way."

Angela stepped back to Earth and all the way her rage was felt. The whole of France was washed over with violent thunderstorms. She landed on the roof of the opera house and used all of her power to strike out. She stood on top of the gold Apollo's statue in her own form and screamed her unearthly cry.

__

Damn them! How can they do this to me!? I'm not let the humans! I am not a puppet. They want me to save him then they take most of my powers away? Why? Who and what is he? Why is he so important?!

Finally she slowed to a stop and slipped back into the building feeling her powers die down.

XXX

The days turned to months; each day filled with rehearsals and performances. Despite the efforts of the managers, her list of roles were quite short due to Erik's overwhelming control over the opera house and his insistence that his 'angel' play all the lead roles. Not that Angela cared. She played the parts and watched for Erik and began to listen more to the stories of Erik or rather what the ballet rats called, 'The Phantom of the Opera'.

Phantom of the Opera.

She rather liked the title. It rolled off the tongue easily. The stories she heard were interesting. Mostly the tales told by a little girl named Margaret Giry. It was from her that she was told about the lake right under the stage. Of course several stories down. But maybe she could try there again. It was late at night almost dawn when she walked out onto the empty stage and floated down several floor levels before she came to rest on a set of stairs that stopped at water's edge. It went to the left and right both ways about ten feet. Docked in a dark corner where no normal human could see it even with a torch was small boat. Angela stood there and moved to walk across the water when she heard a slight sound. She turned around and saw a dark figure walking down the steps. It was Erik. His head was down but he was also clutching his left arm. Angela knew why. With out mind reading or such she knew that he had been shot. Not a mortal wound, the bullet wasn't even lodged in the muscle.

He looked up and in the dark Angela saw his gold eyes flash angrily. "How the hell did you get down here?" he gritted out. He stood up straighter and dropped his arm, raising a small lantern. The measly light did little to show his entire body, but what it did showed made the mask and the frills of his dress shirt luminously white. She could see him glaring at her from under his fedora that was pulled down low and from behind his full mask.

If she had been mortal she would've feared for her life at the murderous look he continued to give her. The shock of seeing some one other then Christine on the bank slowed him.

"You're hurt." She said this slowly and carefully.

"Of course. But why do you care? And didn't I tell you not to come back down here? Ether way, I'm not taking you back up. I hope that you can remember your way. Now stand aside, woman." He moved to step past her but she stepped into his path.

He exploded. His eyes seemed to glow brighter in his hot anger. He clinched his right fist. It shook in his anger. "Damn you woman! You have been nothing but a nuisance since you came! What do you what!?" he cried out in anger and hopelessness. She had no visible fear of him so his actions were limited.

"As I have told you…I am here to give you a choice. The decision that you are about to make will affect you and others for all time."

"So you want me to stop loving Christine because you say so?" Erik looked at her like she was the crazy one.

"No. Though I never have been in love, I do know that it is hard to give up this love. But is she really worth it? She may love you to a point, but still she runs to her Viscomte. You scare her. You scare her not only with your face, but your temper. And if you get over that. There's yourself entirely. You're too much. Too much soul in one body. The Demons are out to get you and what they have promised with not happen. They lie. I do not."

Erik glared at her. "What are you, an angel?" he asked with a grim sarcasm.

"No. I'm not an angel. But heed my words." Angela said gently. She could feel the Counsel at the back of her mind as well as her brother fighting to have Erik listen to his own words.

"No. There are no more chances for me. I will do what I must." He brushed past her and Angela let him go with out a word. His voice was soft and uncertain. She knew she had made him think but the seductive calling of her brother was stronger then hers were she could only speak in riddles, but Erik was a smart man. He would figured it out. There was still the chance that she could lose him but at least he was listening to her a little. He got in the boat and turned back to her as if he just remembered that she was still there.

"Remember what I had told you…if you came back down here I would leave you. I certainly hope that you do not get caught in the traps that lie everywhere. You may have passed over them on the way down but next time you may not be so lucky." With the parting words he pushed off and disappeared into the darkness.

XXX

Of course Angela made it back up to the top levels. She found herself surprisingly calm. She would purposely run into Erik. If he was surprised that she had made it out of the cellars he didn't show it or say anything about it. When ever she would hear him or in the rare occasion see him she would whisper her warnings. He made no sign of hearing her, but she kept at him.

As for allowing his story to run its course. She did. There was no use fighting to leave all the humans behind. She knew it wasn't long before it came to a climax.

A week or so after their meeting on the back of the lake Angela was walking on the roof. It was a pastime she had taken to for it got her away from the fear and hate that permeated every soul that walked the opera house. She was looking out over the tops of the city when she heard the faint whisper of a prayer. It was from Erik and she knew that the Council made it so that she could hear it though it wasn't for her.

_'Please god, let her love me and I promise to be good forever…' _

So he was in doubt even to the whispers of Mammon. He was seeking actual help from the one that would help him.

Angela became invisible, she knew that it was the work of the Council. They had been helping her more since they had found out that it wasn't her Father after Erik but Mammon.

She felt him making his way up to the roof, but before he entered so did Christine and Raoul. They hunkered down and began to talk.

"But what if he comes that night and doesn't hear me sing? Oh Raoul, I think I should sing," she heard Christine saying.

Angela had no choice but to listen as Erik came upon them as well.

"But Christine, what if he finds some way to spirit you off again? I want to be sure of this. We should leave now. I can have my carriage here in minutes and we can be away from this nightmare." They were leaving. On and one they made plans until they slipped away.

Angela looked up at Erik, still invisible. She never had felt compassion for anything or anyone, but the look on his bare face was of one that looked as if his heart was breaking.

Suddenly he broke down and began to cry. She had seen humans cry before and even angels but there was no words for the sight that Angela gazed upon. But for as suddenly as he had started crying he stopped and let out a guttural growl that turned into a scream of pure rage. He then spouted into a deep rage that Angela knew had Mammon wheedling around in delight.

"Is this how you answer the prayers of the pendent god? Is this how you reward repentance and welcome home the prodigal son? We're not permitted to say that God makes mistakes-only that he works in mysterious ways! Oh God what a charlatan you are you're an amateur…you never had any training did you …"

On and on he went some his words some were Mammon's. Angela could only wait until he was done.

When he was finally done raving he stopped and took a deep breath, panting. The night eerily quiet after the long tirade. Angela wanted to go to him, to talk to him but she knew it wasn't over. She heard Mammon whispering to him. Seductively whispering that Christine hated him. That it would be easy just to let go and tumble over the statue that he was perched on. Let go and it would be over. Erik looked down and actually considered it, but Angela pushed through with her own voice, shouting over her brother's.  
_  
Suicide…your life is not yours to take! Sin! Suicides never get forgiveness!  
_  
Erik jerked and glared at the sky thinking that it was God deceiving him into killing himself.

He slid down from the statute and stood tall. Mammon appeared next to him invisible in all but his whispering voice. Angela stood to the other side, playing angel though she was not one.  
_  
Stop now. Forgive and step away. Once you do there will be no pain. Beyond the edge. _Angela whispered.  
_  
Beyond the edge you will be reborn in the glory of the darkness. Rise up and follow me_…. Mammon whispered.

Erik hardened his heart and walked up with Mammon following whispering promises. He walked not as a human but as a dark towering shadow…. The Phantom of the Opera.


	6. Chapter 6

****

Disclaimer: I don't own any the Phantom of the Opera

A thanks goes out to Experimental Madness for being my beta on this story and making it much better.

XXXX

Angela didn't have long to worry, though. The evening performance of Faust was upon them all. She had thought to leave and but she had a feeling that she needed to be around one last time as a human. Faust went on until it came to Angela large but only part in the Opera. The Neighbor's House

She walked out onto the stage dressed in her German costume and as Martha began.  
_  
"God pardon my dear husband, he  
Doth not in truth act well by me!  
Forth in the world abroad to roam,  
And leave me on the straw at home.  
And yet his will I ne'er did thwart,  
God knows, I lov'd him from my heart."_

She pretended to weep. She stopped with a gasp and began again.  
_  
"Perchance he's dead !--oh wretched state !--  
Had I but a certificate!"  
_  
Christine as Margaret came in from the side of the staged. Her long blond hair fell in thick waves with a single thick braid. Her light blue peasant showed her beauty and innocence. "_Dame Martha_!" she called softly.

Angela as Martha looked up "_Margaret?"_

Christine as Margaret giggled and held out a small chest.  
_"Only think!  
My knees beneath me well-nigh sink!  
Within my press I've found to-day,  
Another case, of ebony.  
And things--magnificent they are,  
More costly than the first, by far."  
_  
Angela as Martha gasped and whipped away her fake tears and approached Christine as Margaret. "_You must not name it to your mother!  
It would to shrift, just like the other."_

Christine as Margaret shook her head, "_Nay look at them! now only see!"_

They opened the chest and looked at the fake jewels and such.  
Angela as Martha took a set of pearls out and draped Christine as Margaret with them. _"Thou happy creature!" _Angela as Martha said.

Christine as Marguerite smiled in the ornament mirror but then frowned. "_Woe is me! Them in the street I cannot wear, Or in the church, or any where."_

On and on the performance went. When Angela finished with her one and only scene she went back stage and watched the other performers milling about. They didn't know it but something bad was going to happen and lives that she would have to gather later would be lost. She ended up looking around at the extras milling about and that's when one caught her eye. The performer was rather tall and as the evening progressed he appeared again as several different characters. A solider, a villager and now toward the last scene a demon. He was dressed all in black with bits of deep red with black horns on his forehead and great dark wings on his back. After the Walpurgis Night scene he had moved back but not changed out of his costume.

Angela stared hard at him and he turned his head to look at her.

Gold eyes stared back at her.

It was Erik. His eyes were genuinely demonic. He stared at her then turned away.

Angela nodded. She knew of course it would have been him. She let him be and allowed the rest play out.

The music swelled and for once did Angela's respect for it. She watched as the final scene unfolded. Christine as Marguerite was in a dark cell waiting the dawn.

Mephistopheles and Faust entered her cell. She was sitting in a bed of straw in a corner; she was awaiting execution for drowning the baby that Faust fathered, an act that had driven her insane with guilt. As she slowly regained her sanity dawn crept toward the horizon, and Faust urged her to flee with him. However, though fearing death, she refused to leave, realizing that she must pay for her crime. When she finally saw Mephistopheles, she perceived him as an evil spirit and threw herself on the mercy of God, begging angels to descend from heaven to protect her.

A voice from above sung, "_She is redeemed."_

And Mephistopheles grabbed Faust and disappeared.

Christine as Marguerite stood at center stage and sung with all her soul. Her back was toward the audience but suddenly she began to rise and as she rose, suspended on dark wire she turned to face out into the audience. She was a good twenty feet off the ground when there was a unconscious shudder and then without further warning the chandelier that always had caught Angela's eye plummeted from the ceiling. It fell and crashed into the seats below it.

Angela felt some lives go out while a few hung on and would die later on. The next instant all the lights went out. Angela felt people brushing past her and the chores of screams were matching that volume of her Purgatory. Her eyes turned black and lifted to were Christine was still hanging. She had gone into shock and was just staring out into the darkness when Angela saw the black demon climb down from the catwalks and grabbed Christine. She screamed once then was quite. Erik pulled her back up on the catwalks and disappeared with her.

Angela felt herself lurch forward. In the next instant she was before the Council again.

"Time is of the importance here. You now have your full powers back to use as you see fit, but be careful of how you tread. Your brother is with him. Watch first. Then act. Go!"

Angela nodded and again she was back on Earth. She looked around and found that she was in a place that she had not been yet.

It was Erik's home. It looked just like any normal home. Rich furnishings, doors to other rooms, a fireplace. But the one thing that was missing was windows. The stone walls were smooth but no windows. Angela then noticed that she was still in her human form. Right then a door burst open and Erik walked in dragging an unresisting Christine. He paid no attention to Angela. It was then she noticed that she was invisible. As was Mammon as he trailed behind Erik and Christine. He had a smug look on his face but it faded when her saw Angela.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed.

"I'm here as Erik's guardian angel I suppose. This is not over yet." Angela told him calmly. She still had her hate for her brother, but she had feeling at how this was going to end. It still could change but she counted on Christine's love for both Raoul and Erik. she had to.

"Oh yes it is. Can't you feel it? Tonight is the night Erik dies." Mammon said his solid red eyes glinting at her.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I don't own any the Phantom of the Opera**

**A thanks goes out to Experimental Madness for being my beta on this story and making it much better.**

**And another thanks to those who reviewed. Thank you.**

**XXX**

Erik had pushed Christine toward a room and pointed at a white dress on the bed. "Get dressed."

Christine looked in horror at it and began to plead. "Erik-please."

"Put it on. I insist." With those final words he closed the door and locked it.

Angela was in a dilemma. She could ether follow Erik and try to talk sense into him or stay and help Christine. Already thoughts of suicide were running through her head. Christine changed into the dress and was staring at the wall, when loud and hard music echoed all around. The music was rage and sadness all in one. Angela watched as Christine fell by the wall and started to bang her head against the stone wall. Soon blood poured from cuts. She would indeed kill herself if she was allowed to continue. Angela walked through the wall to find Erik at a huge organ playing like the mad man he was.

She only had to whisper one word to him.  
_  
Christine.  
_  
He hurried back to her and begin to care for the wounds though it was with indifference.

"Christine, that was not really the best way to kill yourself."

"Don't talk about death…

"Why not? He is nothing to be scared of. We humans have the order of the classes, but to Death it makes no difference. He comes to anyone anywhere. The peasant to the king. He doesn't care!"

Mammon looked over at Angela. "But you do. Why else would you waste your time in dealing with this drama?"

Angela didn't answer him. She was busy thinking of trying to keep Raoul and Erik's friend Nadir alive. Right now the boy and the poor man that played Erik's friend from time to time was roasting alive in the very next room.

Finally they couldn't be silent any longer, "Let her go, you monster!" Raoul screamed.

"Ah. I see that there is much more here than what can be seen." Erik looked over at the wall were Raoul's voice had come from.

Erik depressed a mechanism hidden in the wall. There was a click and a sizzle, and the wall seemed to illuminate itself. The bright light and the heat from inside the torture chamber was so intense everyone could see the shapes of the people inside, two figures crouching in pain and shock at the hot dry atmosphere.

Christine couldn't stop her reaction as she brought her hands up to her mouth in dismay and murmured, "No. I'll do what ever you say just let them go. They have nothing to do with this," she pleaded.

"I'm afraid it's not that simple, my sweet Christine. They are guilty of trespassing and conspiracy. They are too dangerous to keep around here, for much longer."

Angela was shaking her head and trying to hang on to her patience as Mammon was howling with glee.

Christine turned to look up at Erik who was towering over her. "You've…won. Just please let them go. I'll stay and be your wife," she didn't beg. She looked up at him with big eyes tears falling from them.

Erik fell his knees, kneeling beside her. He reached to touch her hair, letting the thick strands fall through his fingers.

Everything was silent as Christine once again removed his mask. He shied away, but didn't move.

Nether did Christine. She looked down into his face.

His face was that of which no living man should have save for the dead and buried. The noble cheekbones jolted out from his face in painfully sharp points. The muscle was so thin that the bone showed through the white yellow skin. No nose. There was no nose, just a black hole were it should have been. His high forehead held a brain so large and great that even the skull was misshapen. Dark hair was tossed about, out of order.

Christine touched his face as Angela smiled and Mammon's glee faded. Christine touched his face and looked him in the eye before slowly closing her eyes and pressing her lips tenderly to his forehead, letting them linger there for a few seconds before moving them to his almost nonexistent ones. Part of his upper lip was gone and it showed even more when he bared his teeth in fright and confusion. Christine ignored this as she pressed her full lips to his own thin ones.

He could no longer restrain himself anymore as he wrapped his arms around her torso, feeling her warm shaking body against his. He cradled her as if she was a child and she didn't struggle. He pulled back. "I love you…." he whispered, reaching up his hand to cup her chin bringing it inches away from his jaw, "Christine…."

Then _he_ kissed _her_.

He brought his right hand to her hair, stroking her hair tenderly.

Mammon bellowed with rage and glared at everyone.

"Go home." Angela walked in front of him.

"This is not over sister!" he hissed his red eyes flashing.

"Yes it is."

He bellowed again and disappeared.

Angela turned back to Erik and Christine. He had already let Raoul and Erik's old friend Nadir out of the torture chamber, fixed Raoul up and shoved them all toward the door. They fled, and Angela watched dispassionately as he led Nadir inside for tea. Angela waited just long enough then walked into the room. He was slumped in a chair while Nadir looked at loss for words. She decided to spare him the moment. With a wave of her hand he disappeared.

"I would rather die than not be with her…" Erik stated.

"Be careful of those words." Angela said as she appeared.

Erik jerked his head up then over to where Nadir was and his eye then focused on her. "You. What happened?"

"Don't worry about your friend. He is safely up in the managers office asleep on one of the couches." She smiled at him.

"How did he get there and how did you get down here?" he stood but slumped again. The time was drawing short.

"I could tell you but that would be unnecessary at the moment. Let us focus on who I am and what I am." Angela stopped and moved to the front of him. "This opera is not yet done and like Marguerite you are being judged. I'm not the judge but the lawyer." She pushed the high back chair back with Erik still in it. He could barely move his pounding heart taking all strength.

Angela stood in front of the fire, her back to him and watched the fire with unblinking eyes. Slowly she inhaled and as she breathed out she changed. She turned to face him in her own full glory.

Her pale skin lighten to white as did her hair. She wore a long black robe with the hood pushed back. Her dress was strapless black silk. The gloves that she always wore were gone and from her long elegant neck to her shoulders and down her left arm to her writs was deep indicant designs that glowed faintly. The robe and dress seemed to move of their on free will, as if there was a breeze though there was no breeze, no wind. Not this far under the ground. She spread out her wings. All four of them. One set was a black bat like pair in fount of dark gray feathered ones. She folded them back and slowly gracefully moved to kneel down in front of him. She did not touch him at all but stared at him with her solid black eyes that held no emotion in them.

"What are you…." He whispered painfully.

Angela didn't answer. She waited.

"Oh god, I know you."

"Yes, Erik. You know me. Known me your whole life. And now it is time." She said softly.

He nodded. "I'm ready."

"Do you know were you are going?"

"Yes. The only place I can go." He was calm, too calm.

"Hell? You think you're going to Hell?"

"I murdered a gypsy man in my youth who had held me captive. I murdered Joseph Buquet, a stagehand who had threatened to expose my secrets. I murdered innocents with the chandelier. And if there is indeed a hell, I am destined to go there forever. I do not expect redemption of any kind. I am a damned soul." Erik stated.

Angela wanted to smile to tell him no, but she had to play hard with the man. "Yes, you should be dammed. You have Satan calling your name. but you also have the Heavens calling it as well."

"Heavens?" Erik let out a harsh laugh and ended up coughing harshly.

"Enough of this!" Angela shouted. "You are to be saved, but only if you want to be saved!"

Erik stopped coughing and stared up at her. He started to answer when the room seemed to grow dark, all the gas lamps to extinguished. The only light came from the fire in the fireplace. The orange and red flames moving slightly until there was an explosion of fire. Once the fire died back down to normal both Erik and Angela could see a shape of a man in front of the fire. He was dark. Even if there had been enough light to see him, he still would've been dark. His head was down but he raised it and in the dark two ruby red eyes glared at them.

He bared his teeth and hissed. Long fangs that was white set against a red inferno mouth. "I told you sister, to let well enough alone! He is mine!" Mammon pointed at the dying human.

Angela moved to the front of Erik as he tried to struggle to his feet. He was fading but was summering up the last of his strength. "Come and get him then!" she flared out both sets of her wings.

Flames jumped out from behind Mammon and reached toward her. Angela raised both her arms in a shield and felt the blistering heat as the flames licked at her forearms. The fire faded and Angela lowered her arms, the skin a peeling black. But the skin fell away, like ashes, showing healed and smooth white skin.

She swung the flame around so that the flames engulf Mammon. The force knocked him back into the fireplace. Angela moved toward him her eyes glowing black. She moved closer when suddenly a charcoal colored hand thrust out, and batted away her arms and grabbed Angela by the throat. They were evenly matched and could not truly kill or even hurt each other.

Mammon rose from the flames. Like Angela he regrew the skin and stood healed as he held his sister by the throat. He slid Angela up a wall by her neck. Angela couldn't break his hold. "Why do you want him so much? There are other humans that are hell destined. You do you need him so much?" she choked out, staring her brother in the face.

Mammon grinned and brought his left hand up to stroke her cheek. "The Council still hasn't told you? He is more then a human. He is a angel in human flesh. When he dies he will become that angel. But since he had been human he had sinned. Sins worthy of the hell bound." He leaned his head in close to her ear. "Think of it. Another fallen angel in Hell. Once I have his soul in my clutches I can overthrow Father and take Hell. Our Father has become too lazy upon his throne. I deserve to have it! And Erik's soul is strong enough that I can do it!"

Angela knew that the take over of Hell would not stop there. Soon he wouldn't be happy with ruling Hell. He'd want more. He had always had wanted more. He was very ruthless and never played by the rules. And if Erik was indeed to be an angel when he died just one angel's soul could be enough to hurt the balance. She could not allow that to happen. She took a deep breath. "Erik do you want to be saved?! Do want salvation?!" She screamed her wings beating against the wall.

"No. Erik…." Mammon turned his head to look at the man that had tried to rise but had fallen to his knees, breathing heavily. "Remember God lied to you. Denied you everything. A true face, the love of your mother, acceptance from humanity and even the love of a woman. A man with your mind doesn't have to grovel to a senseless God that has denied you all these simple things. Revoke this god and you shall have it all! You have no choice!"

"Erik, yes you do! You gave Christine a choice. She chose you but you still let her go! There is always a choice! You were put through all the hardships because you have a higher calling. Not as the Phantom of the Opera….but as…" and his name was whispered to her. His true name. "Angel of Music! Guide and Guardian! Grant to me your Glory! Angel of Music! Hide no longer! Come to me… Strange Angel….Israfel…Israfel…Israfel!"

Mammon turned as Erik threw something at Mammon. Instinctively, Mammon caught it.

It smoked in his hand. Mammon tightened his grip and Angela swung her scythe and the long blade thudded into his side. The sharp pain sent a dizzying ripple throughout Mammon's body.

"Say it Erik! Say it! You know what to say! Say it!" Angela screamed as she held on to the end keeping Mammon on the end of the blade at least long enough for Erik to admit his prayer.

Erik's beautiful voice echoed through the room. Though he may have been dying, his voice was strong. "Most merciful Jesus, lover of souls, I pray you by the agony of your most sacred heart, and by the sorrows of your Immaculate mother, to wash in your most Precious Blood the sinners of the world who are now in their agony, and who will die today. Heart of Jesus, once in agony, have mercy on the dying. Jesus, Mary and Joseph, I give you my heart and my soul. Assist me in my last agony, and grant that I may breath forth my soul in peace with you. Amen."

It was done.

With a blood-curdling scream, Mammon grabbed the scythe with both hands and brutally jerked it out. Energy spewed from the holes in his side and he disappeared. The wind that had been howling died and the gas lights came back on.

Angela saw a glint of gold and reached down and picked it up. It was a gold crucifix with shiny black beads.

There was a thud and she turned to see Erik had fallen on the floor. She walked over and effortlessly helped him up. She lead him to Christine's old room knowing that he wanted to die there. She laid him out.

"Are you ready?" she asked as she looked down at him. Angela wrapped his mother's rosary around his thin right wrist. She stood back up tall and had her wings in a arch.

He rolled his gold eyes over at her. He was tired. Very tired. He seemed to smile. "Yes. Now I am."

"Good. Now Erik, just relax. It won't hurt. I'll make sure of that." she moved to the feet of the bed and seemed to grow taller. "Watch me and trust me." she locked eyes with him and reached out her hand and touched his chest.

Erik rolled his eyes as a cold feeling steeled over him. He locked eyes with her again only this time she was back to the side of him. She watched his eyes as she began the chant. This was not a normal death. It was the death of a human angel. One that was born on Earth and had to die on Earth before he could be reborn as a angel.

As the Angel of Music.

Israfel.

"Amen."

XXXX

**A little side note.**

**Israfel (Music) this angel of music inspires people to sing, play musical instruments and compose music. Pray to him to increase talent in this area. He also encourage renewal, resurrection and regeneration. Though all angels sing mighty praises to God, there is a special order consecrated to bringing us the music of the Spheres. Angles speak from the mind and sing from the heart, not as we do through vocal cords.**


End file.
